


The Pancakes Tasted Like Christmas

by WeirdGrimTales



Series: Firsts After The Fire [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, New York, Pancakes, after the fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdGrimTales/pseuds/WeirdGrimTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first Christmas since the fire. Laura and Derek are in New York and as much as Laura tries, Derek isn't in the mood. Fed up, Laura takes them both out for pancakes where they make a discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pancakes Tasted Like Christmas

The first Christmas after the fire, Laura insisted they go out for pancakes. It was three in the morning and neither of them could sleep.

With the extra money made from holiday tips, Laura had bought a little tree for the apartment. It was nothing like the trees they'd decorated in the woods as children but it would serve it's purpose. Derek had taken one look at it and gone into his room. Moody little brat.  It took everything she had not to order him to come back out and help her finish decorating it. She hated pulling rank more than he hated her doing it. 

They both ignored dinner; neither wanting to deal with the other in their respective moods. Stomachs growled almost louder than the unspoken threats of the night. No he didn't want to help her make the popcorn chains. _So back off_. No she wasn't going to let it go.  _Why?_   Since no dinner was cooked they both tried to occupy themselves with little tasks. Laura finished the tree and set to wrapping the few presents she'd managed to get for him. Derek was actually doing his readings for the break.

It wasn't until at least half an hour after Derek heard his sister go into her room that he finally ventured out. The small tree sat in the corner with a few presents sat underneath in a pile. There were even two stockings with the Terry's Chocolate Oranges sticking out. One of Laura's co-workers had given her one as a present and they'd shared it. Laura said they would be a new tradition. Even if it was just one little whack, they could get something out of it.

None of this interested him though. He was after the popcorn on the tree. Half way across the room though he caught a different scent. Cookies? And if he was not mistaken, milk. Turning around he saw a plate and glass set out on the island in the kitchen. It had been years since he'd believed in Santa Claus but every year his parents and Laura would insist on putting out the treats for the jolly man. It was probably because of Cora but even she was getting too old to believe anymore. Had been getting too old. They weren't home-made but to be fair, Laura wasn't much of a cook. She'd managed to not completely butcher his birthday cake which was an improvement from before.  ~~Salt does not equal sugar.~~

The cookie was half way in his mouth when he heard the clearing of a throat.

“Last I checked your name was Derek. Not Santa.”

Rolling his eyes and letting out a small huff he placed the cookie back on the plate. “But it's one of the only edible things in this apartment. I'm hungry. I didn't get any dinner.”

'Yeah, well you were sulking like the time I accidentally popped your basketball,' was a response that crossed her mind. Truth be told she was hungry too but the idea of making any kind of food this late was off-putting. Instead she had a better idea.

"Hey. Throw on a jacket. We're going out to eat."

Derek looked out the darkened windows and at his watch. "Laur, it's like three in the morning."

"It is," she said as she stuffed on her boots by the front door. "And that only means one thing at this point." 

The teen raised a brow at his sister as she slid into her jacket.

"Breakfast," she finished, as if it was the most obvious choice. She tossed his jacket at him which he caught with a grin. "Please tell me we're getting pancakes."

Her smile said enough. It wasn't long after their trek into the wilderness that was New York in the snow that Laura realized this hadn't been the best idea in the world. Putting on more weather worthy clothing than their pajamas might have been smart. Derek had insisted he didn't need gloves so his hands were freezing as they approached the IHop. A few other places had been open but they'd both insisted if they were going to have pancakes they should have them from the International House of Pancakes.

Settling into their booth they huddled together to try and warm their hands in the heated building. His hands were so white Laura was afraid for a moment he might have gotten frost bite. Some brisk rubbing and a warm sisterly kiss to the knuckles or two later and they were pinkish like the rest of their bodies.

They both ordered a five-stack and Derek requested a hot cocoa which Laura stole a few sips from before Derek threatened to dump it on her. They ordered two more.

"Do you think mom and dad would have liked New York?"

Laura looked up from her glass of water where she'd been trying to fish an ice cube out. Dropping it back in she wiped her hand on her sleep pants.

"I don't know," she mused after a moment. "I think they might have liked to hear about it but they'd definitely never live here. They probably couldn't visit either. You know mom could never leave the pack."

Derek nodded. He was silent while they waited for their food. They both became lost in their own thoughts. Laura thought about how Cora would have liked Central Park and Derek thought about Uncle Peter alone for Christmas. The pancakes arrived and Laura thanked the waitress while Derek continued to be in his own little world.

"Hey can you pass the syrup?" 

"What? Oh." Derek grabbed the closest one and handed it to her. Taking it in one hand she mussed his hair with the other. "Don't think too hard." He shot her a look. Laura stuck her tongue out in response before beginning to smother her pancakes in syrup. Derek wrinkled his nose. "How can you do that. They get so soggy."

Placing the container down she shrugged. "Not if you eat them fast enough." She popped a forkful in her mouth. Derek now stuck his tongue out before starting in on his own plate.

While Derek dug in, Laura paused for a moment, fork frozen in midair. Taking another bite, her eyes grew wider. "Derek. Taste this," she said, holding up a forkful for him.

"Laura I don't want yo-"

"Derek just do it."

Lips drawn together he glared at her. "Fine."

She hadn't meant it like an order. Honestly. He carefully took a bite from her fork and proceeded to chew. "Hey...." he started. "They taste like Mom's." Grabbing the syrup container he read the label. "Butter Pecan?"

"That must have been her secret weapon," Laura murmured, taking another bite.

Derek studied the canister before pouring some onto his own pancakes. Syrup streamed out. She watched Derek as he copied her and drowned his pancakes in the syrup. "Who's the syrup  enthusiast  now?"

"They taste like home,"  Derek shrugged. "And like Christmas."

"Christmas at home?" she asked, confused. They'd never really had pancakes for Christmas breakfast. It'd been some kind of casserole.

"No. Well...yes. But also of here. They taste like Christmas here. I can't really explain it. They taste like memories but also...like..."

"Like what?"

"Like now. Like this moment. I didn't want to celebrate Christmas but it still feels like mom is here. It feels like Christmas. They taste like Christmas."

Nodding, she held up her hands. "Okay. They taste like Christmas."

 


End file.
